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Oh no, the Pictish Plight Persists
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March 24th, 1890 — Hogwarts Grounds

The weather was lovely, so Seneca and her group of intellectual friends had gathered outside for a picnic of sorts. They had laid down a large blanket, the girls had their parasols with them and they had even brought treats from Honeydukes. It would have been even better if they were on a large boat, enjoying those things. Seneca loved boat rides.

"Pictish plight peeersists, my friends!" Seneca read out from the Daily Prophet that she held open, in a tone as if she was reading an adventure novel. The cursed artifacts hadn't infected anyone that she might care about, so Seneca didn't feel any concern about them. In fact, she was fascinated by them. She wanted to curse an object herself, at some point.

"I would love to get my hands on one of those," Seneca continued. "With care, of course, to study it. Oh, tell me, what object would you pick if you were to curse it?"

Open to the cult peoople! @Cordelia Fawley @Adrienne Selwyn @Germander Macnair @Holly Scrimgeour @Cadawalader Selwyn @Winslow Ramsay @Gretchen Lestrange
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   Cadawalader Selwyn

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Why was it he only ever seemed to go outside when Seneca dragged him? The rest of his time only ever seemed to be spent crammed away in the corner of the library or in his dorm ignoring the ever-persistent noise of his dormmates. Oh well, the sun felt nice, and it wasn't warm enough yet to be obnoxious or cause him to sweat. At least he did not need to worry about parasols and fair skin, he figured, leaning back on the blanket, propped up on his arms as he looked out rather than at his companions. Eyes flickered open as his cousin spoke - or well, one of his cousins, there were two. Seneca was reading off a newspaper (presumably that day's copy of the Daily Prophet, of which he had yet to read his own copy of) a few feet to his left much like how the nanny used to read his brothers and himself books as children, giving each character a voice.

Pictish artifacts. It had taken him a while to figure out just what civilization the writing had come from when he'd seen the half veela boy and the street rat looking over a wooden medallion. To ancient and little used to be any of their ancient runes textbooks, he'd had to dig further back than that. Back enough he'd had to have books sent from home due to the inadequacy of Hogwart's library.

"Depends on who or what the curse is for. Cursing a compass might certainly be entertaining to watch but if I was targeting a specific person and wanting something serious I'd use something personal to them so they are more likely to interact with it. Maybe a second favorite pocket watch or parasol? That way they are bound to use it but suspicion wouldn't immediately go to that object."
Cad was stretched out on the lawn, his upper half laid on the blanket his legs on grass so the girls might have more space on the blanket, their prim dresses were a little more susceptible to stains than his dark black school jompers. He was only in his shirt and waistcoat. his jacket was folded and one of the girls was sitting on it, using it as a pillow. He was plucking strands of grass and flicking the away from the blanket idly.

As Seneca read the article he smirked. The spate of cursings was a lot of fun to hear about, no one was seriously injured but the idea of someone going around dropping cursed items for idiots to pick up was far too amusing! He had spent rather a lot of time thinking about who it might be. It had to be someone rich, or from an old family, how else would they have gotten their hands on so many old objects.

Cad laughed in response to Mcnairs answer, a cursed compas would be funny to watch, ’A sickle’ Cad said thoughtfully in answer to Miss Lestrange, ’No one proper would pick it up,’ he explained, after all what was a sickle to those in their circles of wealth, ’but everyone else would stop -you could be sure someone would end up taking it home’. He grabbed an apple from the arrangement of treats and tossed it above his head clearly not interested in eating it.
You could learn a lot about someone's personality based on how they answered Seneca's question. Level-headed Germander had given a logical and practical answer. If someone wanted to curse an object in order to get a job done, they would pick an object based on Mander's way of thinking. They likely wouldn't be the sort to curse an object for the sake of it.

Chaotic Mr. Selwyn, on the other hand, had gone for the sickle, so he would get pleasure out of targeting the less fortunate. That was such a Kristoffer move and one that Seneca considered foolish herself. She didn't go around the slums handing poor people money, but she didn't feel the need to make them suffer even more, seeing that she didn't have something to gain out of doing so.

"It sounds somewhat pathetic to me to target someone desperate for a lost sickle, Mr. Selwyn," Seneca commented lightly and made a 'joking' grimace. "Unless you feel somewhat threatened by the less fortunate?"

She had always found pathetic the sadistic inclinations of some. It hid underlying insecurity, to get off of tormenting an animal, or your starving classmate.

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